


In The Night

by Queen_Of_Naps



Category: Batman - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Heartbreak, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-25 16:18:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18578089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queen_Of_Naps/pseuds/Queen_Of_Naps
Summary: Quiet nights in Gotham are rare and they give your thoughts too much freedom. The last thing Bruce wanted was for his thoughts to catch up with him.





	In The Night

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a silly little thing I've been working on for a while. It's pretty short, but I might consider expanding on it.

It was quiet night in Gotham. The rain had finally let up. Christmas lights illuminated the usually grim streets. Bruce found himself wandering along the rooftops to kill time. Even criminals go on Christmas vacation it seems, but not Batman. He watched the empty streets. His mind wandered to  **her** . The last girl who tried to love him, and the first person in a while who managed to get underneath his skin. She had managed to find every soft place in his heart he tried to so hard to hide. Teasing out of him the tenderness he didn’t know he had. 

He pushed her away. Just like everyone else who tried to get to know him. He  crouches at the ledge of the old building across from her apartment. On the outside he was Batman: stoic, strong, waiting for someone to start a problem for him to fix. On the inside he felt desperate, and just a little bit stupid for even being here.

He saw her through the window. She was sitting on her bed, typing away on her laptop. The last time he saw her she was starting her dissertation, but he imagined she was only putting the finishing touches on it now. That had been almost a year ago. Her blonde hair was cut to her shoulders now. It used to fall to the middle of her back.

She wore shorts and a large black t-shirt. Bruce wonders if it was one of his shirts she had taken long ago, or if it was someone else's. Not that it was his business anymore, but he couldn't help but wonder. She used to say that wondering about things that weren't his business was his worst habit. She never considered dressing as a bat and beating people and jumping off buildings to be his worst habit. Unlike the few others who knew he was Batman, she never questioned why he did it. She knew why, and she understood that Batman couldn't just go away. She understood him. 

He wants to pull himself away to a different part of the city, or perhaps back to the manor. Instead he grapples across the street. The sound of him landing on her balcony startles her away from her laptop. She looks out the french doors to see Bruce's large silhouette illuminated by the street lights, casting a large shadow on her floor. She stands up, but hesitates to go any further. For a moment he expects her to turn him away. He wouldn't blame her after all this time, but she doesn't. She opens the door just enough to let him in. He walks into her apartment, and then he closes the blinds out of habit from all the other times he found himself here when he was supposed to be on patrol.

'Old habits die hard,' he thinks to himself.

"What are you doing here?" she asks him. Her voice wasn't harsh or impatient. She was trying her best to seem apathetic. 

"I just wanted how you were," he says. His deep voice echoes against her the walls of her small bedroom.

"I was starting to wonder if I had made you up. It’s only been six months since you broke up with me," there was now the slightest hint of bitterness in her voice. 

He had good reasons for them to split up, but unlike everything else she didn’t understand his decision. She had tried her best to be supportive and to provide him solace from the ugliness he saw every single night on the streets. She bandaged his wounds and set his bones. She begged him to stay in bed when he could barely walk but still insisted on being a hero.

Bruce feels a pang of guilt, and even more stupidity. At the time he was certain he was doing the right thing. She was a few years younger than Bruce, and she still had so much to see. Being with him was dangerous, and he hadn't wanted to be the reason her life had to be lived with high security. So many times he had fought the urge to rectify his mistake. Now he stands in her bedroom craving her attention, and hoping she might be willing to give it to him.

"Perhaps I should leave," he says.

“No, don’t,” her voice softens. She takes his armored arm and pulls him closer to her. 

He removes his cowl and tosses it on a nearby chair. His blue eyes are the first thing she notices, the bruise on his cheek was the next thing. Back when things were different between them she saw his body covered in bruises and scars, and she could never get used it.  

Bruce closes the space between them, and pulls her against his body. She wraps her arms around his midsection, underneath his cape. She rests her head on his chest. She wasn’t particularly fond of hugging his armor, but Bruce was underneath the armor and that was enough. He looks at her face. Her eyes were closed and her mouth held a content smile as face was pressed against the bat symbol on his chest. 

After a few moments, she pulls away enough to stand on her tiptoes and press a light kiss to his lips. He’s surprised by the contact, but still reciprocates with the same softness. A spark moves between them. His gloved hands move to cup her face, and he deepens the kiss. His hands move from her face to trace her jawline and then down her side. She pulls away suddenly. 

“Bruce, will you tell me something?” 

She could see in his eyes that he was feeling vulnerable tonight. He had always tried to hide his feelings, but he had a hard time hiding anything from her. Bruce Wayne didn’t like being vulnerable. He simply nods to answer her question. 

“Why are you really here?” 

“I miss you,” he says quietly. 

She didn’t have to ask why he didn’t come sooner. She already knew the answer was because of his own pride. 

“I miss you too.” 

He turns away from her, one last vain attempt to conceal his emotions. She sits on the bed and watches him put his cowl back on. She follows his lead, walking to the other side of the room to pull on a sweatshirt. She hears his footsteps getting further away again. She doesn’t even know if she’ll see him again, and by the time she thinks to ask he’s gone she hears him jump off the balcony. He keeps the window open so when she goes to close it she catches a glimpse of him grappling up the side of a building across the street. 


End file.
